


Hunger

by Burgie



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: M/M, kinda hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burgie/pseuds/Burgie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master is hungry. But this time, the Tardis sends the Doctor out with him to feed him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for the Doctor and the Master so please let me know how I did, especially regarding the Master's personality.

“Hunnngrrryyyyy.” The Master’s voice seemed to filter through the Tardis from the kitchen to the console room where the Doctor was busy fiddling with one of the parts of his ship. He sighed at the sound. The Master was always hungry, always burning up his life force, and he just couldn’t fix it. The Tardis made a sound that meant that she was annoyed too.  
There was a subtle shift in the space and time within the ship, and suddenly the skinny blonde man was in the console room. Another shift, and he’d grabbed the Doctor and pulled him up against him.

“Hungry,” he repeated, and nipped the skin of the Doctor’s neck.

“Did you eat all the food in the kitchen again?” the other Time Lord laughed.

“Yes,” the Master pouted. “And she won’t restock anything this time.” The Tardis made another noise, almost like a laugh.

“Now, come on, Sexy,” the Doctor chastised her gently, turning to stroke her console. “You know he’s always hungry. Why won’t you feed him?”

“She doesn’t like me,” the Master huffed. “She never has.”

“Well, you did try to steal her a few times,” the Doctor reminded him. “Maybe she’s just a bit… bitter about that?”

“You forgave me,” the Master pointed out. He pulled the Doctor back to him. “And I tried to kill you a few times. And steal your body. And everything else.”

“That’s different,” the Doctor shrugged. “You know how I feel about you.”

“You and your soft heart,” the Master scoffed. The Tardis suddenly shuddered, prompting both Time Lords to pay attention to her.

“Where are you going?” the Doctor frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Looks like we’re headed to a planet in the future,” the Master discovered. Having another Time Lord on-board did help when it came to navigating, at least.

When the Tardis finally landed, the Doctor ran to the door and leaned out eagerly. The Master followed, somewhat more hesitantly. The Doctor might not trust him here.

“A French ship!” the Doctor declared happily. “Haven’t been on one of these before. Well, not really a French ship. Well, it had portals through to France.” The Master rolled his eyes and kissed him. It was the best way to shut him up.

“Is it safe for me to come out?” he asked. “I’m not going to cause any trouble, I just want to eat.” 

“We’re in France,” the Doctor smiled, and took his hand. “Come on, let’s find a restaurant. Allonsy!” The Master smiled.

After walking for what felt like hours to the hungry Time Lord, the Doctor found a fancy restaurant and even got a nice table under the guise of some King and a fellow noble.  
Sitting in the middle of the restaurant, the Master hardly looked dressed for fine dining in his black tracksuit. But nobody batted an eyelid, probably too frightened to approach him.

The Master ordered one of everything on the menu, while the Doctor only had a simple omelette. It was mostly to be polite, of course, he’d already eaten on the Tardis.

Halfway through his third serving of the largest dish on the menu, the Master felt eyes on him.

“They’re looking at me,” he hissed to the Doctor, quickly glaring at everyone within eyesight.

“They don’t understand you,” the Doctor murmured, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“Can we leave?” the Master requested. He was still hungry, but the stares of the other people made bad ideas come to him. He began drumming his fingers on the tablecloth, the beat of one-two-three-four.

“Yeah, we should go,” the Doctor agreed. He quickly rose to his feet, reaching for the Master’s hand. Before, it had been an affectionate gesture. Now, it was as much to comfort him as it was to stop him from running away. As they made their way back to the Tardis, he ran his thumb over the back of the Master’s hand.

At last, inside the Tardis, they could relax.

“Still hungry?” the Doctor asked. The Master’s form flickered and he grimaced before nodding sadly.

The Doctor walked back over to the console while the Master took a seat. He hunched over and rubbed his temples, clearly annoyed by the drum beat in his head. The Doctor looked at him mournfully and they took off.

“We’re here.” The Master uncurled from his ball, blinking in the dim yet still bright light of the Tardis. The Doctor looked worried and helped him up.

“And where exactly is here?” the Master asked. “Knowing your Tardis, it could be anywhere.” The Tardis made a noise like she was offended.

“Oh, stop it, you know it’s true,” the Doctor laughed. Her lights dimmed. “And now she’s glaring at us. Come on, before she decides to dump us in the swimming pool or something.” The Master laughed and followed the Doctor outside.

This planet was new, at least to the Master. But the Doctor had probably been there before. He grinned, and the Master knew that he’d guessed correctly.

“Barcelona,” he grinned. “I haven’t been here since I regenerated. That was a bad idea.” He grimaced. “Bit hard to party when you’re regenerating.”

“Do I look like I’m in a partying mood?” the Master griped. 

“I didn’t bring you here for that,” the Doctor sighed. “I brought you somewhere where you can eat as much as you want however you want and no one can or will look at you and judge you for it.”

“And you thought Barcelona was the place for that?” the Master laughed. “Oh, Doctor, you really are thick.”

“I meant a hotel,” the Doctor sighed with a roll of his eyes. “Now, c’mon. We can stay in our room and order room service.”

“How long do you think it’ll be before your Tardis decides to let me eat again?” the Master wondered.

“Hm? Oh, she’ll probably let us back in as soon as you’ve eaten your fill here,” the Doctor grinned brightly. “I think she only kicked us out so we could have some alone time together.”

“Never had her picked for a romantic,” the Master remarked, looking around at the colourful décor of the hotel lobby they stood in.

“She isn’t really,” the Doctor admitted with a chuckle. “What I got from her is that she’s pretty sickened by us, actually.”

“Sickened? By us?” the Master feigned shock, pressing his hands to his chest. “It’s not like we kiss and hold hands and whisper sweet nothings to each other at every opportunity.” The Doctor laughed and got their room key before leading him to their bedroom. It was on the top floor, looking over the stunning beauty of Barcelona. Not that the Master would spend much time looking out the window, it was really more for the Doctor.

“Are you glad that you took me up on my offer?” the Doctor asked, looking him in the eyes once the door was closed behind them.

“Obviously,” the Master nodded. “You were right. And nobody else could deal with something so broken.” He frowned. He hated being this- half alive yet also burning away his life force and needing to eat at every opportunity. And the pounding, the endless pounding. He felt a gentle, skinny hand on his back. He was curled up in a ball, he found, his hands over his head. The Doctor cradled him. He seemed to do that a lot lately.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed him gently. “I’ll order room service.” The Master raised his head and the Doctor kissed his forehead. “Is anything okay?”

“Everything,” the Master nodded eagerly. “I’m so hungry.”

There was a little table that the Master sat at while he devoured several of the high-quality dishes that the hotel offered. The Doctor stood at the window, looking out over the surrounding parties and trees while the Master munched away in the background.

“Do you wish we were out there?” the Master asked while waiting for his next meal.

“Nah,” the Doctor lied, though his smile was convincing. “I’d rather be with you any day. And I can always come back here. Barcelona doesn’t have any major disasters that I know about.”

“Generally a disaster happens when you’re around, though,” the Master remarked.

“Or a disaster wants to happen but I just happen to be there to stop it,” the Doctor grinned. He leaned down over the table and kissed him, the scratchy stubble tickling his face. The Master’s kiss was hungry, but that probably had nothing to do with his need to eat.

A knock at the door caused them to break away

“Room service,” a girl called. The Doctor opened the door to accept the tray and the dark-skinned girl raised an eyebrow at him. As she walked off snickering, the Doctor frowned in confusion. But when he turned back and saw the grinning Master, he figured out what had happened.

“Trying to make me look indecent, eh?” he asked, sitting across from his fellow Time Lord. The Master smirked proudly and dug into his food.

“Not my fault you blush like a virgin when you’re kissed,” he laughed when he finally paused for breath.

“I like to think of it as endearing,” the Doctor defended. “But you didn’t have to half unbutton my shirt and loosen my tie.”

“I think I did,” the Master grinned. He leaned back in his chair and his eyes roamed over the Doctor’s skinny body. “I have to see more of that delicious flesh of yours.”

“Your meal’s right in front of you,” the Doctor reminded him, a blush climbing up his neck.

“Oh, Doctor,” the Master laughed, shaking his head. To his relief, his body didn’t flicker. That was good. It meant that he was sated for the time being. “I’m not hungry for food anymore.”

In a flash, the Master had picked up the phone again and had ordered more room service.

“Oh, you are bad,” the Doctor smiled, shaking his head. The Master only smiled.

“Strawberries and cream?” the same girl from before asked when the Doctor answered the door. He grinned sheepishly.

“Yeah,” he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Doctor, I’m waiting,” the Master called from the bed. The Doctor’s blush darkened and his eyes flitted back to the bed. Of course he was just sitting there, grinning.

“I’d better go,” the Doctor said, taking the tray from the girl. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And have fun,” the girl winked. She giggled as she walked away, and the Doctor closed the door and leaned against it. When he looked towards the bed again, he found the Master lying on his stomach completely naked.

“Well, come on,” he purred. “We don’t want those strawberries and cream to go to waste now, do we?”

It wasn’t often that sex didn’t result in the Master’s form flickering. But this time, he somehow managed to remain solid. Maybe he’d eaten enough beforehand. And yet it still didn’t stop him from speeding up time for himself from time to time, or slowing it down when he wanted to. But the Doctor could too, and did.

“Maybe this is the real reason Sexy threw us out,” the Master mused. “Probably couldn’t handle us playing with time that much. Or having that much sex.”

“No, don’t call her that,” the Doctor frowned.

“Because only you can call her that and only I can call you that?” the Master smiled. The Doctor kissed him in agreement.

When the two finally stepped back into the Tardis after a breakfast of pancakes with more syrup than necessary, she greeted them with a warm hum and brightening of her interior lights.

“Yes, we did have fun,” the Doctor laughed, running his hands lovingly over the console. “Thank you for suggesting it.” She hummed again. The Master wondered when he would be able to hear what she was saying. For now, though, he was just glad that the sound he could always hear had faded to a dull roar. It always did after a good meal and a good few rounds of sex. The Doctor knew exactly what was good for him. He always had.


End file.
